


you've got a friend in me

by graceana



Series: our friendship will never die, you're gonna see it's our destiny [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Pining, and is not a bakery au, harry makes the apple crumble, i also really want a hedgehog after writing this, i dont know where the hell this came from, i know nothing except for what google told me about hedgehogs, i tried to be funny so yea have fun with that, it's a match made in heaven, louis really likes apple crumble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:58:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceana/pseuds/graceana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis talks to himself a lot so he buys a hedgehog and flirts through post-it notes with his fit neighbor who makes wonderful apple crumble. </p><p> </p><p>  <em>"Yeah. You met Bernard, so you wanna meet Barbara and Eugene?” he asks before mentally slapping himself because why on Earth would he show Harry, possibly the fittest boy he’s ever laid eyes on, the plant and goldfish that he talks to like regular people?</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	you've got a friend in me

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came about, briefly, one night when i was home alone and in the kitchen talking to myself. this fic is slightly me in some parts just you don't even know. okay anyways i hope you like it.
> 
> thank you to [emi](../users/thispieceofmind/works) for betaing this for me and putting all the commas in the right places and adding a whole lot (◠‿◠✿)
> 
> (title from the obvious bUT WATCH [THIS](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D36JUfE1oYk) VIDEO OKAY)
> 
> now translated in [russian](http://ficbook.net/readfic/2075006)!!

“F _uck_.”

“What happened?” Louis huffs when he sets down the box that he was holding in his new living room. Zayn’s helping him move all his shit because that bastard decided to go live with his stupid boyfriend, Liam (Louis can’t lie he likes Liam; he’s like a huge teddy bear who likes to drink and skydive with him on vacations) but he took Zayn, and now Louis has to live by himself, so he kind of dislikes him at the moment. He doesn’t mind too much considering he doesn’t like people all that much anyways, but he’s not sure how he’ll take living alone, or how he’ll survive.

“Nothing, but you’ve got a lot of shit. How do you have this much shit?” Zayn questions with knit eyebrows as if he’s trying to recount all the instances when Louis could’ve bought all his things.

“Have you ever heard of online shopping?” Louis points out as he sweeps the stray piece of fringe out of his eyes. Zayn rolls his eyes as he walks out the front door and into the hallway to grab one of the last boxes from his car.

It’s the start of December and absolutely freezing out, which, coincidentally makes the flat freezing because Louis hadn’t thought to come earlier in the day to turn the heat up. He pulls his jumper’s sleeves down over his hands and walks over to the thermostat to raise it until he hears the little click telling him it’s on. 

Louis starts to lug the few boxes that have all his bedroom stuff in them down the short hallway off of the living room. The flat isn’t that bad when he thinks about it; it’s a downgrade from what he and Zayn shared because they had more income, but it’s still pretty decent.

There’s a spacious living room with a small balcony area that Louis can put Barbara (his cactus) on in the summer and the carpets are an off white-beige color with no stains (not for long, Louis thinks). The kitchen is average, with a stove and fridge, plus it even came with a small circular table and chairs. Louis doesn’t cook often because that was Zayn and Liam’s thing, but now he’s probably going to have to learn, sadly.

His bedroom is a nice size, bigger than his one at the shared flat, which he’s happy about. He has some decorating to do because the walls are the same boring beige color as the living room. He drops the box and walks down the hall, passing the bathroom again, which is also bigger than at the other flat.

“All right that’s all of them.” Zayn runs a hand over his face like he’s just ran a marathon. Honestly, there wasn’t even that much. Just 14 boxes and a few big things for the living room and his bedroom.

“You gonna stay and help me unpack it?” He raises a brow already knowing the answer.

“Nope.” Zayn turns around and heads for the door.

Before he’s all the way out Louis shouts, “Thanks! Love you too asshole!”

“See you at Christmas dinner, Lou!” Zayn shouts back with a cackle before closing the door with a soft thud.

It’s an inside joke between the two of them, because of the one time that Louis stayed in the house except for brief trips to the store for almost 3 weeks. Okay, maybe it was longer, but Louis doesn’t want to talk about it.

“That fucker,” Louis says to the brown cardboard boxes.

He looks them over and figures he’ll separate each into they corresponding room.

“Hmmm,” he hums as he looks through one of his bedroom boxes and pulls out his iHome, plugging it in and setting it on the floor before presssing play.

 

An hour later, and he’s in the kitchen unloading the whole two boxes that he put in there before. It’s mostly dishes and food. There’s two pots, a pan, and a strainer because he does know how to make pasta, but he’s not sure if living off that will do any good, especially for his arse.

“What the fuck is this?” he questions as he pulls out this yellow looking clamp. It looks like a lemon.

He stares at it like it might bite him, then shrugs and throws it into one of the drawers of stuff he probably will never use.

He hears the end of the song that was just playing and hears the start of some overplayed song (he put on Pandora about half way through his separating) and starts over to the player to change it, “Oh hell to the fucking no,” he says as he taps the next button like it’s his own little victory.

Smiling to himself, he walks back over to the kitchen and chucks off his jeans on the way, because hell, he lives alone now, so what’s the point of pants?

He finishes with the boxes in the kitchen and heads to the one box in the bathroom. He sets up his shower curtain which is definitely not Spiderman, along with his also definitely not Spiderman toothbrush. He rushes through the living room and collapses on his unmade bed and groans.

“This is so much fucking work,” he grumbles.

He hears a thud from the wall that his bed is against but doesn’t think anything of it.

It is an apartment building after all.

“Why do my friends hate me?” he wonders aloud.

The last thing he thinks before he reluctantly drifts off is that he should probably get a pet or something, and that he should’ve unpacked his bedroom first. 

♠

“Zayn, come and feed me,” Louis whines over the line. He’s laying on his bed, looking up at the bumpy white ceiling tracing random shapes with his eyes.

It’s the next day and time for dinner. After hanging up all his clothes and posters to cover the ugliness of the walls, he’s starved and too lazy to cook.

“I’m at work,” Zayn deadpans, like that should excuse him from making Louis food.

“Ugh.”

“I gotta go, a client just walked in,” Zayn mumbles and then hangs up.

Stupid Zayn and his tattooing.

“Why did I never learn to cook?” he questions himself.

There’s no answer because he lives alone.

Maybe he will invest in a pet. 

♠

Fifteen minutes later after a call to Niall who politely told him to fuck off (he was also working) and contemplating what he could make for himself with minimal effort, there’s a knock on his door.

It’s obviously neither one of his friends because they clearly hate him and want him to starve to death, so he cautiously grabs the bat that he didn’t know he had until yesterday from the hallway and walks towards the front door.

He peeks through the peep hole and is met with large green eyes and a dopey smile. He puts the bat down, because it’s just a gigantic five-year-old – how much harm can he cause? He’s probably selling cookies or something.

He opens the door and tilts his head up the slightest bit to look up at the seafoam eyes staring down at him.

“Hi,” says a sheepishly deep voice.

Louis scans down the boy’s body and takes in the long limbs, a scattering of tattoos on his upper arm and wrist that contrast against his soft porcelain skin, and how his hair curls around his ears. He stops when he sees a dish in the boy’s hands.

He eyes it curiously before plastering a smile on his face, because this godly person brought him food and it smells delicious from where he’s standing.

“Hello,” Louis chirps through his smile.

The boy shuffles his feet. Louis mentally slaps himself before he starts to motion for him to come inside.

Once in, they stare at each other awkwardly for a moment before the boy coughs and lifts the dish to Louis. “So I know you just moved in. I live next door, so I thought I would welcome you to the building?” He ends it like a question, like maybe he’s not sure this is such a good idea anymore.

Louis takes the dish and walks over to the kitchen, and although his neighbor is hesitant for a moment he follows behind him, the thumping of his boots hitting the tile when they enter the kitchen like duck flappers.

He grabs a fork from the drawer, then hops up onto the counter. He peels back the foil covering the plate then looks back up to the boy with a slack jaw.

“I would ask if this was poisoned, but honestly I’m starved, and you look like a giant toddler so...” Louis punctuates his point with a bite of the best apple crumble he has possibly ever tasted in his entire life. 

“You must be a god send, because I did not want to cook, and then you come over with this.” He shoves another scoop into his mouth.

“Thanks,” the boy mumbles with pinked cheeks.

“What’s your name?” Louis asks around a bite of too much crumble in his mouth.

“Harry.” A dimple indents when he smiles, and oh hell no. 

“I’m Louis.” He introduces himself with a smile and another bite.

They’re silent for a moment, which gives Louis the time to look over Harry once again, and he’s not sure if he moans around the crumble or because this fucking boy is gorgeous and he cooks. Louis thinks he might be in love.

“So, Harry, how old are you?” Might as well get the basics out of the way.

“Eighteen,” he chirps relaxing into the atmosphere.

“Cheers. I’m 20 gonna be 21 Christmas Eve.” Louis clunks the fork against the plate before dropping it into the sink, “That was aces, mate. Thanks.”

“No problem. That’s cool, having your birthday on Christmas Eve.” He leans against the wall and then looks reluctant for a moment, before he stutters timidly, “Umm, do you live by yourself?”

“Yup.” Louis pops the ‘P’ as he hops down from the counter and over to the fridge to take a swig from the carton of milk as if to prove his point.

“Oh.” Harry’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Why?” Louis questions, because he doesn’t want Harry coming over here trying to steal Barbara in the middle of the night.

“I just. I thought when you moved in I saw someone else with you.”

“Stalking me through your peephole Harry?” Louis teases.

Harry blushes a deep red, “No! I just, I heard you guys shouting to each other.”

“I’m kidding. But yeah, that was my mate Zayn. He’s an asshole and left me here to unpack by myself.”

Harry still looks confused but then shakes his unruly head of mousse brown curls out as if to clear his head. He looks up with a smirk and says, “I see.”

Silence takes over again before the boy’s phone starts to ring.

“Your ringtone is not ‘Baby Got Back’ by Sir Mix A Lot,” Louis deadpans, but he’s smiling. Stupid attractive boys who can cook.

“Sure is.” He winks. He fucking _winks_.

Louis’ mouth may drop, only a little.

“Yeah ‘m coming now,” Harry says down to the phone, then salutes his goodbye and is out of Louis’ flat.

“F _uck_ ,” Louis groans because that boy is going to cause Louis harm, he just knows it.

♠

Louis buys a goldfish.

It’s probably the easiest pet to take care of.

He places the little goldfish in the round bowl with rainbow rocks and little castle on the edge of his desk next to Barbara.

“Barbara meet Eugene. Eugene meet Barbara.” He introduces them to each other then wants to slap himself because _fish_ and _plant_.

“I should probably go out more,” he states to the empty air.

“I probably should stop talking to myself, too,” he says as he walks to the kitchen. “I should probably stop talking to myself _about_ talking to myself.” He stops in front of the fridge and contemplates drowning himself in his half full milk carton.

♠

“Fuck you!” he shouts at his laptop, more importantly fucking Youtube.

The video won’t load. It’s a hard knock life.

There’s a thump and then a muffled groan from the room next to him, and he briefly wonders if it’s Harry’s.

He decides not to think about that and sticks his headphones in, blasting his iTunes with the volume all the way up.

♠

“Eugene,” he whines, “you don’t understand.”

Eugene blinks and bubbles at him.

“Why did he have to bring that stupid crumble over here? I bet you he’s like fucking Harry Potter and put love potion in it. Now all I can think about are his stupid curls and eyes, and he’s so wonderful, and I don’t even _know_ him. Jesus, I hate people. This is why I hate people.” He pouts, his bottom lip sticking a mile out.

Eugene swims over and floats next to Barbara like they’re discussing Louis’ life problems.

He swims back over a minute later and wags? Flippers? His tail back and forth like it’s an answer.

“You’re right, Eugene.” Louis sighs, and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s agreeing with a goldfish or because he knew that he would end up crushing over this stupid, stupid gigantic toddler of a boy.

♠

He’s not really sure how he ended up in this position.

He guesses it could’ve started with hearing Harry stumbling home an hour ago from an assumed night out with friends and shouting down the hallway with a deep drunken voice that sounded fucking wrecked.

Yeah, that’s probably how he ended up in his room 3 fingers deep and whining because he wanted to make Harry sound like that and see the way his green eyes would turn black like cauldrons on Halloween. He wants to make him keen and squirm just because he _can_.

Louis lets out a moan and then he pumps himself once, twice with his opposite hand before he’s coming over his belly and chest.

“Fuck,” he moans, and whines because he’s fucking fucked. Literally and figuratively.

He looks up and sees Eugene staring at him with his large fish eyes. He swims over to Barbara.

“Shut up.” He pouts before throwing his head back against the pillows. He can hear them laughing at him.

♠

The next day he wakes up with dried come on his stomach; he feels mildly embarrassed for getting off to the thought of someone he’s only spoken to once, since he hasn’t really left his flat since he’s moved in.

It’s a thing he’s come to do since his last year in uni, because partying and going out all the time gets old. It’s not even like he needs to go out that much, just to go shopping. He doesn’t like people, okay? He tries not to interact with them as much as he can.

So, today is the day where he is restless to get out of the house and buy food. These days happen often, so he does get out of the house. Stop judging him.

And how does he earn money, you say, if he doesn’t leave his house? Well, he’s a computer code writer for his uncle’s company, and his check goes right into his bank account, so he’s essentially set.

After he’s showered and has eaten a wonderful breakfast of toast with peanut butter, he goes to head out his door.

When he opens it, a piece of paper falls down and in front of his feet.

It’s a neon pink sticky note with something written in scrawl across it.

Louis bends over and picks it up.

_the walls are thin ;) -harry_

Louis chokes on a breath and almost runs back into his house to hide under his covers. His cheeks are heating up with a rosy tint that he can feel. Harry heard him last night. Oh God. He wonders what he was doing, maybe he was laying down watching TV or doing school work because he’s young enough to still be in university.

He closes and locks the door behind him, pocketing the fluorescent paper, and lets himself wonder for a brief moment if Harry got off to him getting off.

He shouldn’t be as satisfied at the thought as much as he is.

♠

“Hold the elevator!” he calls as he nearly drops the grocery bags that he’s carrying very tactfully so he doesn’t have to make another trip.

He slides inside not seeing the other occupant until he shakes his fringe out of his eyes and turns to his right.

 _This is not happening to me right now_ , he thinks mournfully.

He might want to punch himself in the face a little.

“Hi,” Harry draws out in that oh so deep voice of his that Louis has imagined over and over and over again.

“Hi.” Louis blushes. The note burns a hole in his pocket.

“Nice night?” Harry says nonchalantly, but Louis can see the smirk and glint of mirth in his jade eyes from the mirrored surface of the elevator doors.

Louis’ cheeks go pink with embarrassment, but then, he figures as the elevator dings on their floor, that two can play at this game.

They’re quiet as they walk down the hall. Louis purposefully swings his hips more than usual; he can feel Harry’s eyes on him.

He stops at his door and unlocks it with practiced ease and steps inside. Just before he lets the door fall shut he smirks at Harry with shining blue eyes overflowing with mischief, and a smirk that could battle that of the emoji on his phone.

“Hope you enjoyed the show.” And he winks, letting the door click shut with a gaping Harry on the other side.

“Oh my God,” he laughs to himself, leaning with his back against the door.

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes at no one in particular or at himself, who knows. 

After questioning his life for a mere five seconds, he continues to the kitchen to put away the groceries.

“Barbara! Eugene! You will never guess what happened!” he shouts.

And after putting away his very pretentious Almond Vanilla flavored milk in the fridge does he realise that he’s just called out to a fish and a plant.

Maybe he should get a pet that’ll actually respond to him.

♠

Later that night when Louis is laying in his bed with his laptop perched on his knees reading some unpublished author's work, he hears muffles and groans from the wall behind him that Harry pretty much confirmed was his room.

“This is not happening,” he whispers to himself.

A long deep moan rips through the air.

Eugene bubbles next to Barbara as she stands as stiff as ever because, well, she’s a cactus she can’t really go anywhere.

Louis takes out his headphones and moves his laptop off his lap and onto his bed. He stands up on his knees and places his ear to the wall because, well, if Harry is going to have a wank when he knows just how thin these walls can be then Louis is going to be a creep just like Harry was.

He can barely hear the noise of Harry working himself over but he can hear the little noises that escape his lips and light squeal of the mattress moving beneath him. 

He imagines him splayed across his bed with nothing on. The few tattoos he’s noticed littered over his body like stamps on his pale skin. Maybe the lights are on, maybe they’re off, with the glow of Harry’s laptop illuminating his face. Louis doesn’t know, but he sure would like to.

Harry hisses and then goes quiet. Louis hears the bed springs creaks with an up and down motion probably because Harry’s just arched off the bed and came.

It’s quiet on the other side of the wall, and Louis can’t stop his brain from imagining every possible thing, like him fucking Harry until he’s so blissed out he can’t even think, or riding him until Harry’s face scrunches up in concentration, because _I’m getting off, not you_.

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself, and then falls down on his own bed and tugs himself off through his sweatpants until he’s panting, trying to keep as quiet as he can when he spills over his own hand.

 

An hour or two later, around 2 a.m when Harry’s side of the wall has been quiet for some time, Louis takes a blue post-it from his desk and a sharpie and writes: _remember how you said the walls are thin? ;)_

He peeks out of his door and checks both ends of the hallway like he’s about to trek through traffic, and he dashes to Harry’s door and sticks the little note on it.

After shutting and locking his door he laughs, a soft sound that leaves his mouth like a melody in the calmness of the night air.

Going back to his room, he notices an old magazine that Zayn must’ve stuck in one of his boxes for exotic animals and grabs it.

He already has a plant and goldfish, why not add to the mix?

♠

“Bernard, welcome to your new home,” Louis announces as he opens the door to the small carrier that the lady at the pet store gave him.

A moment passes before a small African Pygmy Hedgehog peeks its small pointy snout out of the red carrier.

“Come on, Bernard,” Louis coos as he bends down and holds out one of his hands.

Bernard waddles out of the cage and up into Louis’ cupped hands.

He’s relatively small ,but the lady, Lucy, at the shop said that it’s because he’s still very young and he’ll grow as he ages, but he won’t grow too large, 8 inches the biggest, which is still pretty small.

Louis lifts Bernard in front of his face. His blue eyes meet small beady brown ones that blink slowly at him. His quills stand about half an inch off his body but aren’t rough to the touch, just a little prickly. He’s mostly shades of brown, from beige to chocolate.

“You’re so cute. Come on, let’s introduce you to the family.” Louis carries Bernard while petting his head into his bedroom to introduce him to Eugene and Barbara.

“Eugene, Barbara, I would like you to meet Bernard, the new addition to the family.” Louis stretches his arms out so Bernard is in front of the round fish bowl. Bernard leans forward and sniffs the glass making Eugene swim up and stare at him with his round fish eyes.

“Oh look! Bernard, you and Barbara are like cousins! You both have spikes!” Louis shouts excitedly.

Bernard squeaks and tries to jump from Louis’ hands, but Louis holds him close and walks back to the living room, shutting his bedroom and bathroom door as he walks down the hallway, so Bernard doesn’t get lost on his first day of exploring.

“Okay, Bernard go explore while I make a sandwich, and then I’ll fill you in on Harry, the fucking bastard,” Louis mumbles as he sets Bernard on the floor. At first he just stands there before he scurries off under the couch.

Louis laughs to himself on his way to the kitchen.

He hums a soft tune under his breath as he layers his sandwich and sighs happily when he takes the first bite.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watches as Bernard scurries from the small television stand to under the couch multiple times. He smiles to himself as he watches the little creature and his chest warms because he’s just so darn adorable.

He takes the last bite of his sandwich when a knock raps against his door.

He hops over to put his plate in the sink and smiles to himself because he already knows who it is.

As he makes his way over to the door, he watches Bernard station himself near the side table that’s against the couch.

He peers through the peep hole to see a dopey smiled Harry staring back at him.

“Well, hello there Harold,” Louis greets when he opens the door.

Harry smiles before it quickly turns into a smirk. He lifts his hands and presses a bright colored post-it to Louis’ forehead.

Louis reaches for the note when he feels a little skid across his ankle and a flash of brown run past his feet.

“Bernard!” he yells as he sticks the post-it in his pocket.

“Bernard?” Harry questions, but he starts to jog down the hall way, bless him and his long limbs, after Bernard.

They run the length of the hallway twice, before Harry dives and grabs Bernard in his hands, which Louis did not realise are really, really large and could probably grab his ass perfectly; he shivers.

“Bernard,” Louis says sternly as he takes the little creature from Harry’s hands and walks back to his flat.

“No running away,” he tells him at eye level. Bernard turns away, and it actually looks like he pouts.

Once back at his flat with the door securely shut, Harry finally speaks up with a confused look on his face, brows knit together and mouth tugged in a half smile/half grimace, one of his dimples making an appearance but his voice is amused, “Is that a.. is that a hedgehog?” His voice lilts at the end, his accent curling around the words.

“Yup,” Louis chirps as he sets Bernard down on the floor for him to scurry off again.

“Oh my God,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“Yeah." Louis shrugs. "You met Bernard, so you wanna meet Barbara and Eugene?” he asks before mentally slapping himself because why on Earth would he show Harry, possibly the fittest boy he’s ever laid eyes on, the plant and goldfish that he talks to like regular people?

“Who? I thought you lived alone?” Harry questions with a knowing smile hiding on his lips.

“Oh, um-” Louis stumbles for words, cheeks heating up by the second.

Harry laughs, a gracious sound that comes from the Gods, erupting from his ribcage and vibrating outward almost like an earthquake.

“Come on,” Harry tugs at Louis’ arm, “Show me Barbara and Eugene. Are they a couple?” he inquires as Louis leads them to his bedroom. He thinks he might actually be in love with this stupid boy.

Bernard comes scampering after them, the soft thud and click of his nails against the wood of the hallway's floors.

Louis opens his bedroom door and then looks to Harry who has his eyebrows raised in a suggestive way.

“No, no, no.” Louis rushes over to his desk and stands next Barbara. “This is Barbara,” he points to the Ferocactus and then to the fish bowl, “and this is Eugene.” Bernard stands at Louis’ feet and turns to look at Harry.

This would be an excellent time for a family photo, Louis thinks.

“You guys make quiet the family.” Harry points out as his eyes shine in the afternoon sun that pours through the two windows behind Louis. His curls seem flatter today, probably because of the frigid air, but they sweep across his forehead in a practiced manner; Louis wants to run his fingers through them and muse them up. 

“Well, me and Barbara here have been together for a year or two now.” Louis goes to put his arm around the plant but then decides better on it.

“Even though,” Louis stage whispers across the space between Harry and himself, “I think she may be cheating on me with Eugene.” He side eyes the fish bowl.

Harry tries to hold back a laugh but Louis can see his chest tremble with the force of it.

He cracks first, a smile breaking across his face and making his eyes crinkle so much he can feel the pulling of his skin. Harry follows with a bursting laugh, sounding like a clap of thunder in a summer storm.

They walk back out into the living room, Bernard taking post in the small bed that Louis bought for him and sleeping curled in on himself.

“I’ve got to go,” Harry says reluctantly.

As he walks past Louis towards the door he pinches his bum making Louis yelp. “My ringtone doesn’t lie!” he cackles.

Just before the door closes Harry yells through a dying laugh, “Don’t forget the post-it!”

Louis screws his heated face up in confusion before grabbing the neon pink square from his pocket. His eyes widen as his mouth falls open at the little message.

_i know. ;)_

_p.s dinner?_

He looks over at the sleeping Bernard, and figures he’s too young, so he rushes into his bedroom. Throwing the door open and he shouts, “Barbara I’m getting a divorce! Eugene, she’s all yours!”

 

That night, Zayn barges into the flat when Louis is curled up on the sofa with Bernard resting on his shoulder, watching a documentary about space and aliens. It’s cool shit.

“Louis,” Zayn says cautiously.

Louis turns his head, careful of Bernard snoozing on his shoulder, and hums.

“Is that a rat?” Zayn squints his eyes as if that’s going to make his vision any better.

“No, you idiot. It’s a hedgehog, and his name is Bernard. I also have a fish, Eugene.” Louis turns back to the TV but he can feel the odd look that Zayn is giving him.

“Louis, you’ve lived here a week and you’ve already bought two pets,” he states.

“Thanks, captain obvious,” Louis deadpans as Bernard makes a soft mewling sound from his shoulder. He smiles at the little bugger.

Zayn shrugs and sits down on the side of Louis that Bernard is not on.

“So how’s everything?” he questions as he takes a sip of the smoothie that Louis had resting on the small table to his side.

“Good, good. It’s nice here.” He nods his head.

“So,” Zayn drawls out.

Louis starts to smile; Zayn’s always known him best.

“I could tell from a mile away. Why do you think I’m here? What’s up?” Zayn rolls his eyes.

Louis turns to him and smirks, but it’s not teasing like he would do to Harry – it’s soft around the edges, his sharp cheekbones being rounded out like water pebbles in a lake and his piercing eyes turning from ice to the soft color of the sky.

“I’ve got a date.” He waggles his perfectly arched eyebrows.

Zayn chuckles, “Lou, bringing Old Barbs out and sitting her opposite you isn’t a date, how many times do I’ve got to tell you?”

Louis drops his mouth in horror. “That was once and I was very very drunk,” he adds.

“Whatever. So is your date with the goldfish this time?” Zayn’s lower lips wobbles before he bites the inside of his mouth to stop from laughing.

Louis glares at him, “No. Actually it’s with the really fit boy next door who brought me apple crumble when no one would come and feed me after you left me here _alone_ to unpack,” Louis informs him. He then mutters quickly, “Barbara and Eugene are married anyways.”

Zayn’s eyes widen comically like they’re about to burst out of his head. “Okay I’m just gonna ignore that last part. But who’s this boy?” He takes another sip of Louis’ smoothie.

“Well,” Louis starts, and he tells Zayn everything like they’re 15 again, and Louis’s telling him about his first crush, except this time Zayn can see that extra sparkle in his eye when he mentions how Harry’s hair falls a certain way or how he shakes it out when he seems nervous. When he tells him about the post-it notes with a blush high on his cheeks, Zayn’s lips curve up into a familiar smile as his friend gushes on and on about the boy.

“Why’re you smilin’?” Louis asks a moment after he’s just gone into great detail about how wonderful Harry’s apple crumble was.

“Nothing.” Zayn shakes his head.

“Come on, tell me.” He prods Zayn arm with his pointer finger.

“You just seem happy Lou. It makes me happy that you’re happy,” Zayn says simply.

“Eww, Zayn, you’re such a sap.” Louis rolls his eyes, but there’s smile stretched across his thin pink lips.

♠

It occurs to Louis around 3:34 a.m that he hasn’t exactly told Harry that, yes, he would like to have dinner with him, so he slips into his moose slippers and pads into the hallway with an already made blue sticky note stuck to his finger.

He wasn’t sure whether to write just ‘yes’ or ‘I’d love to’, but he stares at the blue square against the white of the Harry’s door with his loopy _apple crumble_ written on the blue paper with about a million hearts surrounding it. Then, just to ensure that Harry got the message he scribbles across the bottom _that means yes_.

Because he’s a dork and can do things like that.

♠

 “Are you fucking me right now?” Louis says to the empty air as he sees the small head of a pimple forming on his cheek.

“You decide to erupt like a volcano right _before_ I have a date with the fittest boy on the planet?” he questions the bump, which in reality isn’t really that big, it can barely pass as a pimple.

Bernard comes padding into the bathroom, his little nails tapping against the tile as he looks up at Louis.

Louis looks down at him and pouts. “Bernard can you believe this?”

“Squeak!” Barnard replies.

“You’re right, I can just get that super strong stuff from the store and hope it goes away before tonight.”

Harry had left a note on Louis’ door informing him that tonight is great for him if it’s good for Louis. Louis might have gotten into the habit of checking his front door for notes instead of checking his mail.

Bernard squeaks again as Louis walks out and slips on his shoes before heading for the front door.

The drug store isn’t far from the flat, maybe a 5-10 minute walk, so he doesn’t bother to change out of his pajamas. After all, it’s only 11:23 a.m. No one he knows would be up and out at this hour, especially on a Sunday.

He curses himself once he gets into the hallway and runs back inside to grab a heavy jacket because it is December. Bernard squeaks sadly from his feet, poking his shoe with his little paws.

“Aww, you know I would take you, but I don’t want you to catch a cold.” Louis pouts at the little quilled being at his feet.

Bernard pouts, or it looks like he pouts at least. Louis whines a high pitched noise in the back of his throat because Bernard is so adorable he might cry.

“Fine.” He picks up Bernard and goes back into his room to grab an old pair of really fluffy socks and a pair of gloves, on second thought two pairs of gloves.

He sticks one of the deep maroon colored socks and sticks it inside the other then squishes Bernard inside so his head is peeking. Louis then grabs the scissors from his desk and cuts the last three finger holders off and slips it over the rest of Bernard like a coat.

“There,” he says as he sets Bernard down and slips his own pair of gloves on.

He holds Bernard close to his chest like a child as he makes his way to the store. Bernard squeaks and quails like he’s telling a story that Louis hums and nods along too.

Once in the store, Louis quickly buys the pimple stuff and maybe a thing of makeup because, well, Lottie did show him something or another once, and pays quickly before anyone notices the little hedgehog in his coat.

As he’s paying, the teen behind the counter, who’s chewing on her pink bubblegum obnoxiously, eyes the center of his chest where the small lump is.

“What’s that?” she questions with a sneer and hands him his change.

“My boob,” he says, deadpan, and then proceeds to walk out of the store.

 

The pimple stuff works miracles, because by the time he’s fixing his hair with a little bit of hairspray to ensure that every piece is flicked perfectly the little bump is mostly gone.

“Okay,” he says to himself as he walks back into his room from the bathroom.

He hasn’t chosen a pair of jeans yet, but his shirt is a simple white tee that scoops just enough to show off enough of his collarbones to show off the light script of his tattoo he has written across his chest.

“Which one?” he questions holding up two almost identical pairs of pants to Barbara and Eugene, who don’t respond.

“Well, thanks for the help,” he mumbles as he picks the second pair because they’re just that much tighter around his thighs that they show off his wonderful arse spectacularly. He definitely wears them on purpose. 

He pulls them up and laces his shoes as Bernard comes leaping into his room and somersaulting over to Louis. It’s a new trick that he’s learned since this morning, apparently.

“Bernard, you have to go in your cage while I go over to Harry’s, okay?” Louis says sadly. Bernard doesn’t go in his cage at all because he’s always with Louis. But Louis isn’t sure how long he’s going to be gone tonight, and he doesn’t want Bernard hurting himself.

Bernard whines a little high pitched squeak, and Louis coos.

“It won’t be too long. I’ll come and check on you,” he reassures the little guy as he picks him up and places a light peck to the tip of his nose.

He places Bernard in the medium-sized, white, metal cage that’s resting on his desk, so he’s next to Eugene.

Louis grabs an old CD and pops it into the player that he still has on the opposite side of the desk and puts the volume on low.

“Okay, Eugene and Barbara no funny business with Bernard right here, and look after him. I’ll be back later.” He flicks on the side lamp near his bed before shutting off the main light and walking through the flat, flicking off the lights and making sure he has everything before he heads a door over to Harry’s.

♠

He steels himself in front of Harry’s door for a good four minutes before he’s counting to three and knocking with tight short raps before he can run back to his flat and watch a movie with Bernard.

Harry opens the door so quickly that Louis would accuse him of standing by the door, but when he sees the open buttons (yes, several almost all the way down to his belly button) of his white button down undone he nearly faints on the spot.

His tattoos stand stark against his milky skin and the butterfly(???) that’s inked across his abs flutters when Harry coughs to get Louis’ attention off of his chest.

Louis looks up and meets eyes that sparkle like a green champagne bottle that's sitting on a table in France as the setting sun reflects through the glass with the bubbles fizzing in and out. His hair is as curly as ever and sweeped up into this strange quiff swoop thing.

His dimple pops when Louis finally realises the smirk that he has on his face.

“Coming in?” Harry says, amused, as he opens the door that much more for Louis to walk in.

After he walks through the threshold, he follows Harry into the living room and he definitely doesn’t stare at Harry’s tiny bum and longlong legs that are clad in tighttighttight black skinny jeans as they move through the foyer.

Harry’s flat is pretty much identical in setup to Louis’, except where Louis' bedroom is off to the right of the living room down a hall Harry’s is off to the left.

There’s paintings of all sorts hanging over the beige colored walls. Some splattered colors together, some portraits or landscapes painted with soft strokes. There’s a duplicate of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ hanging above the sofa and like Louis’ said about a million times, he might actually be in love with this insane boy.

“Dinner’s almost done. Sit. I’ll get us a drink,” Harry politely says as he moves into the kitchen where Louis can smell the sweet scent of tomatoes and is that apples?

Harry returns a moment later with two glasses of red wine.

He hands one to Louis as he sits opposite him on the couch.

“So,” Harry drawls out as he takes a sip of the wine. He darts his tongue out gently to lick a small drop of the red liquid from the corner of his moth. Louis may be drooling.

“What’re you making?” Louis sips at his wine.

“Lasagna.”

“That’s one of my favorites,” Louis tells him with a small smile.

“How’s Bernard?” Harry asks, genuine curiosity evident on his face.

“He’s good. He was sad before I left because I had to put him in his cage.” Louis pouts, he doesn’t like putting Bernard in his cage and just thinking about the little guy in the small square makes him cringe.

“You could’ve brought him over.” Harry’s face is soft around the edges as the orange of a street lamp outside reflects off his features as he smiles at Louis.

Louis bounces up and down on the couch before hopping up. “Really? Are you serious?” he asks excitedly.

“Sure. Why not?” Harry says matter-of-factly with a huge grin that takes up most of his face, the pearls of his teeth twinkle.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get him.” Louis sets the wine glass down on the coffee table in the center of the room and heads over to his flat to fetch Bernard and is back in a minute with the little creature cradled in his hands.

“Hello, Bernard,” Harry coos as a beep comes from the kitchen.

Harry gets up, his long legs stretching on for miles as he walks towards the kitchen. He nearly trips over air but catches himself on the door-frame. He looks back over his shoulder to Louis who’s smiling softly, trying not to laugh. His cheeks are dusty pink but appled in a small smile.

Bernard squeaks as Louis sets him down on the cushion next to him.

“Now Bernard, you have to be polite,” Louis whispers, grabbing his wineglass from the table and taking a sip, feeling the chilled liquid slide down his throat.

“Meep,” Bernard says quietly.

“No, you can’t have any. You’re not old enough,” Louis scolds.

Sitting patiently in the living room for a few minutes, Louis takes in the living room again. Besides the paintings that are framed on the walls, there are also pictures on the small side table of Harry with some friends and family, he assumes.

There’s one of Harry and a ginger haired kid outside a huge building which can only be a venue of some sort. There’s another one of Harry in a suit, all tailored to his limbs and hair done up perfectly, in between two women who Louis assumes are a mum and sister because they all look freakishly alike, with their dark hair and bright eyes.

The last one on the side table is of Harry sitting in a black leather chair, dimpling up at the camera as a boy with charcoal colored hair tattoos his arm. Louis tilts his head to the side as he sets his wine back down on the table and grabs the frame.

Harry comes out just then, carrying two plates with a huge helping of lasagna and some salad on the side.

“That was when I got one of my first tattoos,” Harry informs him as he sets everything down on the table.

Making sure not to sit on Bernard, Harry sits next to Louis on his opposite side so their knees are pressed together. An electric shock is sent through Louis’ whole body; he tries not to tremble.

“Where was this at?” Louis questions as he eyes the tattoo artist in the picture.

“Puzzle on Hamden Street. I go there all the time.” Harry hands Louis a napkin after he’s set the frame back down next to the others.

Louis drapes the restaurant styled napkin over his lap and grabs his plate setting it on top. He hands Bernard a piece of lettuce on a smaller napkin. Bernard squeaks in thanks as he happily munches on the green leaf between his small paws.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Louis rolls his eyes as he cuts a small square of the lasagna and stabs it with his fork.

An explosion of tomato sauce, garlic and cheese dances over his taste-buds. He hasn’t had a home-cooked meal this nice in what seems like forever. He nearly moans around another bite before he looks up at Harry who’s eyes are wide but there’s a small smug expression hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“This is fucking great,” Louis says.

Bernard pokes Louis’ thigh with a light paw and looks up to him. Louis shakes his head and feels his heart grow a size too big and hands Bernard an olive.

“Really?” Harry says shyly, like he really wants to impress Louis.

“Really,” Louis says, reaching over and squeezing Harry’s thigh to make his point.

They eat a few bites in silence except for Bernard’s little munching noises, until Harry clears his throat and says, “Wait, so why was I kidding you about the tattoo shop?”

“Oh,” Louis chuckles, taking a swig of wine. His mind is a little fuzzy but not by much, barely even tipsy, “My mate and his two other friends own the place. Who’s your artist you go see?”

Harry’s face lights up. “Danny is. He’s done pretty much all my pieces, except for a few that one of the other guys did.”

“Ahh, I love Danny. He’s a great laugh. He did my bird.” Louis stretches out his arm to show off the single swallow that’s inked across his forearm. “My mate, Zayn, did all my other pieces for the most part.”

“Yeah, I think Zayn did one of mine as well, I can’t remember which though.” Harry scrunches his brows together and looks off to the side as if trying to remember.

Louis looks down at his half eaten lasagna cube and his stomach aches. “I’m so full,” he grumbles.

“No, you can’t be! I made desert,” Harry whines with his bottom pink lip pouted out.

 _He did not_ , Louis thinks to himself.

“Did you make the crumble?” This crumble turns him on more than porn.

Harry grins at him as he takes their plates and heads into the kitchen.

“Bernard, I think I’m gonna marry him,” he says dreamily towards the kitchen’s direction.

He hears a small lilt of laughter and his cheeks flush with heat.

Harry comes out a minute or so later with three bowls.

He hands one to Louis, keeps one for himself and then places a small bowl of vegetables in front of Bernard who squeals at him in thanks.

Louis looks up to him with heart-shaped eyes and a chest exploding with affection for the young boy sitting next to him with the crater-like dimples and radiant eyes that flicker with every emotion he feels. The boy next door with the cheeky post-it notes and apple crumble.

The bowl is warm in his lap with the crumble being fresh from the oven. The smells of cinnamon and sweet apples waft up into the air around him, along with the hint of vanilla from the scoop of ice cream sliding to one side as it slowly melts.

He can see Harry watching him from the corner of his eye as he scoops up a small bite onto his spoon and brings it to his wine stained lips. He doesn’t stop the moan that escapes his lips when he chews the crisp apple.

Harry’s eyes widen quickly before he’s staring down into his own bowl shoving some crumble into his mouth.

Louis laughs around another bite as Bernard curls against his thigh.

They eat the crumble in comfortable silence and if Louis makes unnecessary noises on purpose, no one but him has to know.

“I’m stuffed.” Louis slouches against the back of the couch.

“Movie?” Harry suggests with tired eyes.

He nods. Louis knows how he feels.

Harry discards their dishes and sets up the DVD player and pops in the first movie that he grabs.

Louis lets out a bark of laughter when the opening credits start up. The title screen displays a wooden house with colorful balloons tied to it with a dog, old man and Boy Scout standing out front.

“What?” Harry says, incredulous.

He sits down next to Louis with the remote in his hand and slings his opposite arm across the back of the couch behind Louis’ head. He may swoon.

“I just can’t believe you have this movie.” He shakes his head, looking up at Harry through a fan of lashes.

“It’s a favorite.” He shrugs one shoulder as he clicks play and the movie starts.

It’s not long before Louis’ head is lolling to the side and resting on Harry’s shoulder, with his lidded eyes dropping lower and lower.

Harry smells like apples and the sweet aroma of his cologne, along with faint scents of tomato from cooking earlier. It’s a smell that Louis wouldn’t mind getting used to or one to taint his bedsheets.

Blinking up to Harry with soft teal gemstone eyes Louis pouts with his buttom maroon stained lip jutted out. There’s no real reason that he pouts other than that he feels like it.

Harry smiles softly before pecking an ice cream sticky kiss to his forehead.

There’s this charged atmosphere around them for a few moments before Louis is sitting up and slithering a hand around Harry’s neck with a shy smile with a hint of a devilish grin hiding in his kiss. He leans in and softly pecks Harry on the lips.

He pulls back to find Harry’s eyes fluttered closed like wings of a butterfly he flicks them open with a delicate glint shining in the gold flecks that shimmer in his irises.

“Hi,” Louis whispers, his breath ghosting over Harry’s lips with how close they still are.

“Hi,” Harry says, smile timid.

Louis smiles all teeth and confidence and leans back in, kissing Harry deeper. Their lips slide together with the vague taste of wine and apple from their dinner that lingers sweetly on their tongues. Harry makes the smallest of noises that has Louis slowly opening his mouth up to slip his tongue inside and slide it over Harry’s, making him moan low in his throat.

They kiss languidly as the movie plays in the background. The fragile atmosphere quickly becomes charged with small lightning bolts each time one of them makes a small noise or switches the angle.

They pull away minutes later to catch their breath with their foreheads pressed together their breaths mingling between them.

Harry pecks Louis’ lips over and over, making him giggle like a small child getting their cheeks pinched.

He’s about to lean in for another heated session when there’s a light tap on his shoulder. When he looks over there’s Bernard with a tight stare glaring at Harry like a concerned sibling.

Harry hides in the crook of Louis’ neck. “Your hedgehog just caught us snogging,” he mumbles.

A sweet light laugh breaks through Louis’ lips as he peers over Harry’s head of curls back at Bernard.

“He’s just being protective.” Louis rolls his eyes as he briefly thinks about getting Bernard a friend to play with. “Plus he’ll get used to you the more he sees you around.”

Louis' heart flutters at the shimmer of hope that flashes through Harry’s eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

With a quick look over to Bernard, whose expression Louis can read easily (even for an animal) is soft, just like the small squeak that comes out of his snout and turns back to look at Harry with a sunbeam smile, “Yeah.”

♠

By the time Louis leaves Harry’s flat, it’s past midnight, and he’s so elated, he feels like he’s floating, just like Carl did when he cut the reins on his house and floated up through the sky with the dozens upon dozens of balloons that were attached to his roof.

He strips as he walks to his bedroom, Bernard following sleepily behind him.

Eugene bubbles at him rapidly when he walks into the room like he’s bombarding him with questions. “Eugene not now.” Louis turns off the CD player and climbs into bed lifting Bernard onto the pillow that’s set on the mattress just for him.

They both blink as their eyes drop shut, and just before Louis floats off into sleep he hears a muffled deep voice say, “G’night, Lou.”

He turns his head into his pillow and restrains from screaming because of the burst of joy that supernovas in his chest all because of the ridiculous boy on the other side of the wall. He smiles into his pillow as he raises his voice just that much louder so it can sift through the wall while sing-songing, “G’night, Harry.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you laughed at my ridiculousness 
> 
> as always kudos and comments always appreciated .x 
> 
>  


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